Lessons
by idontlikegravy
Summary: Sequel to Superheroes. Richie is invited to visit Logan at the prestigious Xavier Institute, but what he finds there may change his life, and maybe the Game.
1. Meetings

_This is a crossover between Highlander and X-Men, a sequel to Superheroes, set shortly after the X-Men 2. I apologise again to any big X-Men fans out there, my canon is a mix of the comics, the cartoons and the movies, simply because I don't read enough comics for them to solely provide my canon, so if I cause offence, I didn't mean to. As for the Highlander fans, this is Denial simply because Richie had too short a fuse and I needed him to be more mature for this to work. So now I've thoroughly alienated half of the audience, on with the fic: ;-p_

_Disclaimer: I still don't own X-Men or Highlander, mores the pity. I'm just having a little fun, no harm intended, so please don't set the Sentinels on me._

**Lessons**

Richie stopped the bike outside a very impressive pair of wrought iron gates. In the distance, up a tree-lined drive, he could see an equally impressive mansion. The sign on the gate said _The Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. _For a moment Richie wasn't sure he was in the right place, but this was the address he had been given, so he reached out and pressed the intercom. It crackled into life.

"Yes?" a strong, well-mannered voice came from the intercom.

"Er, I'm here to see Logan. My name's Richie Ryan."

"Ah yes, come in Mr. Ryan." The intercom cut out and the massive gates began to swing open. Richie turned the ignition back on and headed up the drive.

By the time he reached the front door, Logan was already waiting outside for him. Richie smiled, got off the bike and held out his hand.

"Still messing around with bikes?" Logan began with a smile, "Heh, I guess they won't get you killed after all." He said with a chuckle.

"Guess not. Nor you." Richie replied with a grin. "I'm glad to see you man. I wasn't sure you'd be in touch again after what happened with Duncan…"

Logan's expression darkened at the mention of the Highlander. He ushered Richie inside, and Richie discovered that the interior was as opulent as the exterior. Children walked through the lobby, chatting and carrying books. Logan led him along wood panelled corridors, past a dozen or so rooms, some of which had open doors through which Richie glimpsed more children in lessons.

"I wasn't too crazy about what he had to say, but he was only telling the truth. I'm not mad at him Rich, he's helped me fill in a gap in my memory. And it gave the Professor another place to start in regaining the rest. Even if I was mad with him, I wouldn't take it out on you." Logan said. Richie looked at him sceptically.

"Really? You always used to be a real grouch."

"Yeah, well hanging around the Prof and his kids changes a man." Logan replied with a smile that lit up his whole face. He had stopped in front of a door at the end of a corridor, which he now opened. The door led to a spacious office that obviously doubled as a classroom. Seated behind a large oak desk was a bald man Richie took to be in his fifties. The man moved in his chair, and as he came around the desk to greet them, Richie saw that it was in fact a hi-tech wheelchair, the spokes of the wheels forming a large 'X'. "Richie Ryan, this is Professor Charles Xavier."

"Delighted to meet you Mr. Ryan." The Professor offered a hand and Richie shook it.

"You too Professor, although I'm a little confused."

"Yes of course, I'm sorry. Please, take a seat." The Professor pointed to a small couch, which Richie sat on. He perched a little uncomfortably as the dealer's eye he had developed working for Duncan recognised that it was Queen Anne and worth thousands. Logan dropped into a far more relaxed position on another couch. "How much did Logan explain as to why you were asked here?"

"Not much, he just said he wanted to talk to me." Richie replied. The Professor gave Logan a sharp look.

"What? I didn't think it should be discussed over the phone." Logan said defensively.

"Hmm. Perhaps not," the professor replied before turning back to Richie, "Richie, Logan explained to you that he is a mutant, yes?" Richie nodded, "Well everyone here at the institute is also a mutant, including myself. Some of my older students and graduates form a team called the X-Men, who work to defend mankind against attack so that humans will one day see that mutants pose no threat."

"Attack? Attack by who?" Richie asked.

"By other mutants mostly. A group called the Brotherhood of Mutants think that mutants are superior to other humans and should rule them." Logan replied. Richie looked a little shocked, but he simply nodded. He was taking a little time to absorb this information, but he was interested and he didn't want to stop them talking with stupid questions.

"We also look for new mutants and find them, so that we can offer them a safe place to learn to control their gifts, here at the Institute. A few weeks ago, we discovered a new mutant, a teen named Paul Warner, who has the ability to see through objects." Professor Xavier added.

"X-ray vision? Like Superman? Cool!" Richie exclaimed.

"Indeed," the Professor said with amusement, "But this boy also has remarkable healing powers that are not part of his mutation."

"They aren't? How can you be sure? Logan has healing powers." Richie said warily, beginning to see where this was going.

"Yes, but this kid crackles with blue lightning when he heals." Logan said pointedly.

"So you called me. How much have you said?" Richie demanded, standing up.

"Cool your jets bub, I didn't say nothing except you might be able to help. That's all." Logan said, almost growling. Richie eyed him for a moment.

"You'd better not," he retorted, sitting back down. "Where is this kid? Is he here?"

"Paul is in the grounds, but he's outside, on the basketball court. I can summon him if you wish." Xavier replied.

"Bring him in. I'll soon know if I'm the one you want or not." Richie replied tersely. Xavier nodded then tilted his head slightly, as though listening for something.

"He's on his way," Xavier said. Then, at Richie's puzzled look he added, "I just asked Paul to join us telepathically. _That is my gift._" This last part was said without speaking and the shock of the telepathic communication made Richie start. Xavier and Logan both smiled.

"Logan, I've been meaning to ask. Those claws, are they part of your gift?" Richie asked.

"Not exactly. I'll explain later kid." Logan grunted. Richie bristled slightly at being called kid again, but before he could remonstrate he was distracted by the approach of another Immortal. He stood up and reached for the sword hidden under his coat, turning to face the door. He didn't draw his sword, but left his hand on the hilt, keenly aware of the company he was in. He relaxed slightly when the door opened to reveal a teenage boy, but after his experiences with Kenny, he was still alert.

"You made the right call Logan. Paul is it?" Richie asked the boy, who nodded. "You better sit down. We have a lot to discuss."


	2. Decisions

"So you were in the car that your foster parents died in? And you were unconscious but when you woke up you weren't hurt?" Richie asked gently.

"Yes, how did you know?" Paul replied.

"Paul, your healing isn't a mutant power. Gee, this is hard to explain. You're like me, you're an Immortal." Richie replied. He could see that Paul was about to protest, so he held up his hand to stop him. "Normally everything that has happened to you is enough explanation but I think you need a demonstration. Could you ask Mr. Logan to come back in?" Richie asked. Paul nodded and went to the door. Logan and the Professor were waiting outside. "Logan, I need your help please. Professor, you should come in too. I wouldn't normally reveal this to outsiders, but I think you need to know about Paul as well."

Logan and the Professor entered and Richie whispered something to Logan.

"You sure bub?" Logan asked.

"It's the only way." Richie said and nodded. Without another word Logan swiftly produced his claws and stabbed Richie in the chest. Paul and the Professor started forward but Logan stopped them, as Richie's lifeless body fell to the floor.

"Cool your jets. He asked me to do that. To show ya what he is. What Paul is. Just sit still and wait," he explained to Paul. They all sat there in silence for a few minutes, Paul and the Professor growing more anxious as the seconds ticked by, their gaze flicking between Logan and Richie's corpse. Then Richie came back with a gasp and sat upright.

"I hate that part," he muttered, "Thanks for being so accurate," he added to Logan, who nodded.

"How did you do that? I've never seen anyone come back from the dead, not even a mutant," the Professor asked in wonder.

"As I was trying to explain to Paul, I'm an Immortal, and so is he. Immortals start life like everyone else; we age like everyone else, unless we meet a violent death. Then we cease to age and heal from any wound, even fatal ones."

"Ah, and it was an Immortal friend of yours that provided Logan with the information about his past?" the Professor surmised. Richie nodded.

"I'll never grow old? Never die?" Paul asked, amazed.

"Only if someone takes your head. That's the only way we can die." Richie said.

"Who'd want to take his head?" Logan asked.

"Other Immortals. We all have to take part in something called the Game. Nobody knows why or when it began. All we know is that we have to fight. In the end there can be only one." Richie explained.

"Only one Immortal? I don't want to fight though!" Paul cried, panicking. Richie tried to calm him.

"Don't worry; we don't all want to win the Game. Most of us just want to live in peace and quiet. I have lots of Immortal friends. But there are a few of us who are…evil. They enjoy the Game, enjoy taking heads and challenge any Immortal they come across. That's why you'll need to learn how to use a sword, to defend yourself." Richie said patiently.

"I don't think I can kill anyone." Paul said.

"Don't worry about that now. Hopefully your first challenge is a long way off." Richie said with a grin. "I know it's a lot to take in, especially when you're so young."

"Hey, I'm sixteen, you're not much older than me!" Paul retorted. Richie sighed.

"I'm thirty four. But I became Immortal when I was nineteen," he said. He watched as the pieces dropped into place, knowing what Paul was about to say as surely as if he was the telepath.

"You mean I'll never get any older?" Paul asked. Richie laid a comforting arm on his shoulder. "Man, this blows!" Paul yelled and ran from the room. Logan made to follow him, but Richie stopped him.

"Let him go. It's a lot to process. Poor kid, I know how he feels. I was really lucky, I knew about Immortals before I became one, and it still took a while for me to come to terms with it," he said. Logan nodded.

"So this Game, that's why you have that sword under your jacket." Logan said. Richie pulled his blade from his coat and showed it to Logan.

"The only place I'm safe is on holy ground. Anywhere else I go, I might get challenged."

"Have you taken heads?" Logan asked.

"Too many. But I had no choice." Richie replied. Logan nodded his understanding. Tactfully changing the subject, Professor Xavier asked,

"So who will teach Paul this Game of yours? I would really prefer if he could stay at the Institute. I think he needs to maintain some sense of stability. It would be good for him to stay with people who will not judge him."

"Older Immortals take on students and I know someone who might teach him. But I don't know if he'd be willing to move here. Would you mind if I made a long-distance call?" Richie asked.

"Please, go ahead. We have so many students from all over the globe, one call won't make any difference," Xavier replied with a smile. He and Logan left Richie alone to make his call.

-

"DeSalvo's Gym."

"Hi Mac."

"Richie! How's it going? Have you found out why Logan wanted you there?" Duncan asked, concern clear in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm at a school. Logan's a teacher here…kinda…and well one of the kids…he's one of us," Richie explained, "His name's Paul, and he's only sixteen. He needs a teacher Mac. He seems like a great kid." Richie added, leaving the proposition hanging. Duncan chuckled.

"And you want me to take him?" he asked, "Sure, no problem. Can you bring him up here this weekend? I think he needs to start straight away."

"Yeah, see that's the problem Mac. There are really good reasons why this kid needs to stay in Westchester. Is there any chance you can move here?"

"Not possible at the moment Richie, I'm really sorry."

"Can you think of anyone else who could do it?" Richie asked.

"You could." Duncan replied. There was silence as Richie thought about this.

"Gee, Mac, I'm really flattered you think that, but I'm not ready to have a student. I've only been in the Game for fifteen years; I figured I'd need at least a century before…" Richie began, but Duncan interrupted him.

"Rich, you've faced and beaten some pretty experienced Immortals. You've got more skill, experience and wisdom than some people I've known for centuries. If anyone can teach this kid, it's you," he replied.

"I'm still not sure Mac, it's a big responsibility." Richie said.

"Immortals don't just have one teacher. Yes there is always the first teacher, the one we have a special bond with, but there are many others we learn from in our lifetimes. Take you for example. You haven't just been taught by me, you received lessons from every Immortal you've met; from that other Methos, from Amanda, from Kristin, and even Adam. You also gained experience from every Immortal you faced, and not just through the Quickenings. I think you're ready to teach this kid what he needs to survive in the Game." Duncan said.

"I've never thought about it like that. But really Mac, what if I screw it up?" Richie protested.

"Hey, are you questioning over four hundred years of wisdom?" Duncan asked. Richie laughed.

"Of course not, if you think I'm ready, then I'm honoured you think that Mac. But that kid's really angry right now, and scared. How do I get him to trust me?" Richie replied.

"Have faith in yourself Richie. You can understand him better than anyone, know what he's thinking and feeling right now. You'll find the right words."

"Thanks Mac. I'll see you when I come for my things." He made his goodbyes, hung up the phone and went out to find Professor Xavier.

He found him in an empty classroom a little way down the corridor. Richie knocked on the door and entered.

"Ah, Mr. Ryan, have you made arrangements for Paul's tutelage?" Professor Xavier asked. Richie nodded.

"I'm going to teach him. I'm not sure I'm ready, but my teacher seems to think I can do it, and I trust him." Richie replied.

"True wisdom comes from admitting what you don't know and accepting advice from those we trust. I'm sure you'll do your best for him," replied the Professor with a smile, leading Richie out of the classroom and back toward his office.

"I'll need to find somewhere to live, and a job. Do you know of any places that are hiring? I'll do anything, but I'm a fair mechanic."

"I have an opening on my staff. You could live here and teach."

"Here? At the Institute?" Richie asked, astounded, "But what can I teach? I didn't even attend college, so I can't teach any regular classes. I'm sure there are better martial artists here, and I don't have any powers, so the physical side is out. The only other thing I'm good at is breaking and entering."

"You'd be surprised. You say you don't have a power, but what is your healing? And with your training and skills you are just as adept as any of the pupils here. The students are taught many different disciplines, including aspects of armed combat. You would be a great help in training sessions as an enemy in scenarios. I think you would make an excellent addition to the staff. Besides, Logan is always looking for assistance in maintaining the vehicles here." Xavier replied with a smile. Richie returned the smile, until he noticed the bloodstain he had left on the floor.

"I'm sorry about your rug," he said, pointing. Xavier looked at it and smiled.

"Not to worry, I'm sure it will come out. Now, I believe you'll find your student out by the basketball court. Just follow the voices of the children and you'll soon come across him," he said. Richie nodded and left.

He could indeed hear the yells of children at play, and he walked around the large mansion until he came to a basketball court. There, some of the students were busy playing a rough and ready game.

"Hey, no powers!" called one, as another flew into the air to put the ball through the hoop. Richie smiled and shook his head.

_This is gonna take some getting used to, _he mused. He spotted Paul sitting on a swing a little way off from the court and headed over to him.

"Mind if I join you?" Richie asked.

"s'free country." Paul mumbled, not meeting Richie's gaze. Richie sat on the swing beside Paul's and waited in silence. "It's not fair." Paul said after a while.

"No. No it isn't," Richie replied, "Unfortunately we have no control over when we die the first time. I once met an Immortal who was hundreds of years old, but he still looked like a little kid. I know it sucks to stay looking young, but at least you're a teenager. When you start learning to fight, you'll build up muscles and that will help you to look older. And I'll show you some tricks I've learned to fool people. It isn't all that bad, honestly."

"But what about when I fall in love? When I want to have children?" Paul demanded. Richie sighed. He had hoped this little sticking point wouldn't arise for a while yet. He took a deep breath and tried his best to soften the blow.

"Paul, I'm sorry, but Immortals can't have children." Richie said.

"Oh, well, at least I can't get some chick knocked up by accident! But then no grown woman will ever look at me, will she!" Paul retorted before getting up and running back into the mansion. Richie buried his head in his hands.

_Oh man, what have I let myself in for? _he thought, _I'm never gonna be able to teach this kid, I can't even manage 'the talk'!_

"Mind if I join you?" said a gruff voice. Richie looked up to see Logan standing over him. He nodded and Logan sat down, "Give him time bub. You're a good guy, he'll see that."

"I'm not sure I can do this Logan," Richie replied. Logan placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You aint alone in this, okay? Me and the Prof will help in any way we can. 'sides, you've managed to keep your head this long. That says to me that you must be pretty good with that blade of yours." Logan said with a grin.

"Yeah, not bad," replied Richie, returning the grin.


	3. Trials

Disclaimer: I still don't own X-Men or Highlander, more is the pity. I'm just having a little fun, no harm intended, so please don't set the Sentinels on me.

The full moon creating the only light, Richie crashed through the undergrowth, his heart pounding in his ears. He knew he was making so much noise that a child would be able to track him, but that didn't really matter. If he could just make it to the next clearing, then he could stand and fight.

He saw a break in the trees ahead, and quickened his pace, but he was too late. His opponent dropped out of a tree, sending them both to the floor. Richie rolled and brought his sword up defensively, just in time, and there was a clang as metal hit metal.

The moon glinted off his sword as they struggled, blades locked together. There was a loud crack as Richie felt his arm break. He grunted in pain, but didn't let it distract him. Twisting around, he was able to transfer his sword to his good hand and brought the pommel of his sword down hard on his opponent's jaw.

Panting hard, Richie mustered what strength remained in his legs and pushed his adversary off of him, throwing him into a tree a few feet away. Seeing the other man was winded, Richie clambered to his feet and pointed his sword at his foe. He smiled.

"I think that one was mine," he said, still out of breath.

Logan got up from where Richie had thrown him and dusted himself off. He then popped his jaw back into place with a loud crack.

"Really, bub? I ain't the one with the broken arm," he commented.

Richie examined the arm hanging useless at his side.

"That's only cos your bones don't break. Besides, it's already healing, no biggie."

"And that was a lucky shot, getting my jaw like that," Logan grumbled.

"A sword is more than the blade, Logan. I'm just glad that it's made of adamantium, or it would have shattered on that thick skull of yours," Richie replied.

Without warning, the forest around them dissolved and the doors to the Danger Room opened. Professor Xavier entered, followed closely by half a dozen students.

"Good morning, Logan, Richie," Xavier called cheerfully. The two walked over toward him.

"Chuck," Logan replied at the same time as Richie answered,

"Professor."

"Richie, how are you getting along with the new adamantium sword that Forge made you?" the professor enquired. Richie beamed and held the blade in question aloft for examination.

"It's wonderful. I've never owned a sword like it. Mac always said that a blade should be a part of you, but I never really understood what he meant until now," he said happily. But he then lowered the sword and looked at the professor, a little guilt in his eyes. "But if you don't mind, I'll stick to my old sword against Immortals. It has sentimental value."

"I understand completely. And don't worry, I'm sure Forge won't be offended."

"Just make sure you bring the right one to our sparring matches. My claws would cut through a regular blade like it was butter," Logan added with a gruff chuckle. Richie nodded in reply.

With a nod of farewell, Logan then walked to the other side of the room, where the students were waiting for their training session.

"Richie, I wanted to ask you, how are things progressing with Paul?" Xavier asked. Richie visibly sagged, exhausted, and not just from the fight with Logan.

"Not good. I mean, his skills are developing pretty well, but I can't seem to get through to him. It's been nearly a month, and he's barely said two words to me outside of class," Richie replied, exasperated. The professor nodded, thoughtful.

"I'm sure he just needs more time to adjust, have patience with him. After all, time is the one thing Immortals have in common," he answered. "Now, I believe you have a motor maintenance class to teach?" he added. Richie looked at his watch.

"Woops! Sorry professor," he said and headed for the door.

"Perhaps a change of clothes first? I should think the sight of blood might upset some of the students. I'll let them know you'll be a little late."

"Heh, thanks Professor, I think you might be right," he said as he left.

Later that day, Richie was walking past Xavier's office deep in thought over the problems that Paul represented. Without warning, he found himself lying on the ground looking up at a very angry Scott Summers.

"Watch out Ryan," Scott said.

"Sorry, Summers. But maybe it's you that should watch out? You charged into me remember?"

"Just get out of my way," Scott snapped and then he walked away. Richie looked through the open door to see Professor Xavier, Logan, Rogue and Storm inside, staring at him. He grinned and shrugged his shoulders from his seat on the floor.

"Richie, good, come in, please. You should be part of this discussion," the professor said. Curious, Richie got up, entered the office and closed the door behind him.

"Does this have anything to do with what's got his panties in a knot?" Richie asked, thumbing in the direction Scott had gone. The others all looked to the professor, and Richie did the same.

"There has been a report on the news of violence in Japan. Scott felt we should intervene, but I told him it wasn't our place," the professor explained.

"But I don't understand, professor. If he's a mutant…" Storm began.

"If, Ororo, that's a big if," Logan interrupted, "Show him the report Charlie."

The professor picked up a remote and turned on the television.

"_Reports are scattered, confused at best, but it seems this titanic battle has been going on for a whole week now. It began in the hills outside Kyoto, but has since moved into the city itself, causing devastation in its wake," _the reporter said.

The camera panned across the Kyoto skyline, showing ancient temples and teahouses that were flattened.

"Looks like a tornado hit," Richie commented.

"Not quite," the professor replied. He turned off the TV and turned his gaze to Richie. "Japan has a very powerful mutant who calls himself the Silver Samurai. He used to head a Japanese team of heroes, like the Avengers, although he now works alone. Last week, he challenged a Yakuza boss he thought to be a mutant to a duel. This is the result."

"Let me guess, he isn't a mutant," Richie said with a sigh.

"I don't believe so, no."

"How bad is this guy?" Richie asked with a sigh.

"On a scale of one to evil? He's one of the worst Yakuza bosses in Japan. Has been for over a century. And before that, he was one of the most feared and hated _daimyō_," Logan said.

"You fill me with confidence," Richie deadpanned.

"I don't understand, what's going on here?" Rogue asked. Logan ignored her and answered Richie.

"Don't get me wrong, he's not that great with a sword. He gets others to do his dirty work mostly. The Samurai keeps killing him, he just won't stay dead," Logan explained. Richie nodded his understanding. "Each time his henchmen have been able to recover his body and protect it until he has time to heal. They're loyal, but dumb, they keep taking him back to one of his own houses. The Samurai is always close behind and starts the fight again."

"And he keeps fighting as a matter of honour," Richie said, knowing a little of the Samurai code from what Duncan had taught him.

"Exactly. Neither one of them will quit until one is dead permanently," Logan confirmed.

"But in the meantime, Kyoto is being devastated," Xavier added.

"Then I guess I need to go to Japan."

"Would somebody please tell me what on earth is happening here?" Storm demanded. The professor looked to Richie.

"You might as well tell them. In fact, hey why don't we just take out a billboard in Time Square so the whole country can know?" Richie quipped. The professor continued to look at him. "Seriously, I guess we've got no choice, and I probably couldn't hide it for long with everything that goes on here. Go ahead."

"Ororo, Richie isn't a mutant. He's a different kind of human, one that can live forever. We can explain all the details at a later date; I know you'll have questions. For now, please just accept that Richie needs to face this Yakuza, alone," the professor explained.

"Alone?" Logan asked.

"Those are the Rules. But I'll need some help to keep his Yakuza buddies from interfering. Something tells me a criminal lord that evil won't play fair." Richie groused.

"Plus you'll have to convince the Samurai to stop fighting him, and that won't be easy. Trust me, I know," Logan said.

"There's something else Richie. I think you need to take your new sword with you. The Silver Samurai has the ability to create an energy field around his blade so that it will cut through anything except adamantium," the professor said.

"So?" Richie asked.

"So, if this Yakuza has been fighting him for three weeks, then his blade must be made of adamantium."

"Oh, I see. Good idea professor, thanks," Richie said with a grin. "So, how do we get to Japan?"

"Oh that part's easy," Rogue said with a grin, "And really, really cool."


	4. Battles

_Disclaimer: I still don't own X-Men or Highlander, more is the pity. I'm just having a little fun, no harm intended, so please don't set the Sentinels on me._

**Battles**

"Where can I get me one of those!" Richie exclaimed in awe. He'd just been taken to the underground hangar beneath Xavier's Institute where Rogue had shown him the X-jet and was suitably impressed by the Blackbird. Rogue grinned and clapped him on the back.

"Before we go anywhere, you need to change, sugah," she commented. Richie looked puzzled and she ushered him into a side room just outside the hangar. Inside, the X-men were assembled, dressed in their uniforms. Logan grinned and pulled a black leather suit from a locker.

"Welcome to the team bub," he said.

"Seriously? Cool!" Richie said, examining his new duds. Rogue pointed to the back of the jacket, so Richie flipped it over.

"It's even got a scabbard built in, so you can wear your sword on your back," Rogue explained, excitedly. "May not be discreet, but if you're wearing this, we aint being discreet."

"Time for a fashion show later. We'll go prep the jet; get changed and meet us there ASAP." Scott commanded grumpily. As they filed out, Richie asked Rogue,

"Have I done something wrong? He doesn't seem to like me."

"Don't sweat it, Rich. Scott's the team leader; he's just cross that he was last to know about you and that you're joining the team so quickly. After all, you've only been here a month," Rogue explained. Richie nodded.

"Plus, it's just part of his winning personality," Logan commented. Richie laughed at that and the two left him to change.

He was surprised to see that the uniform was exactly his size; in fact the leather fitted his skin like a glove. Later he'd have to ask the Professor just how he had gathered such information. But for now, he was too excited and nervous about the mission. He was happy to be part of the team, for the chance to be a real hero. But he had not forgotten the lessons of the 'other Methos', he hated having to take part in the Game, only fighting when he had no option. As a consequence, he hadn't fought anyone for over a year, and this Yakuza sounded badass. Was he really up to it? He zipped the jacket closed and slid his adamantium sword into its new sheath, where it rested comfortably against his back.

_No going back now, _he thought grimly, and marched out to the X-jet.

Ten hours later, the Blackbird touched down outside Kyoto. Thanks to the active camouflage, the only evidence of her presence was a flattened area in the field of wildflowers. Wolverine, Storm, Rogue and Iceman walked casually down the plane's loading ramp. Richie came bounding down the invisible ramp and looked up. He reached out a hand and felt the metal plane, but all he could see was blue sky.

"Cool," he breathed.

"Are we done now, Ryan? We have work to do," Cyclops snapped at Richie, striding down the ramp and through the flowers in the direction of Kyoto. The rest followed.

Logan caught up to Scott and said in a low voice,

"Ease up on Richie, huh? It's all pretty new and weird to him."

"We don't need some punk-ass kid who isn't even a mutant…" Scott began.

"He's thirty four," Logan interrupted.

"I don't care how old he is, he's still a rookie," Scott replied, "None of us have trained with him, except you; he's completely untested in battle."

"Hardly. Richie's a far more experienced warrior than you, hell than most of the team. He's been fighting for his life since he was nineteen," Logan said, his voice a low growl.

"Maybe so," Scott conceded, "But I don't see why the Professor put him on the team. We hardly know him."

"Speak for yourself."

"Okay, he's good with a blade and he heals fast, but what good is that?"

"You just described me," Logan pointed out with a gruff laugh. He dropped back to let Scott mull over their conversation. As he drew near Richie, Bobby, Ororo and Rogue, he could hear they were in full conversation.

"Blade?" Richie asked.

"Already taken, silly," Rogue replied.

At Logan's querying glance, Storm explained, "We were just trying to think of a suitable codename for Richie."

"How about Hothead?" quipped Logan. Richie smiled.

"The Immortal?" Bobby suggested.

"Just one problem, if I call myself 'The Immortal' every Immortal in the States will come for my head," Richie pointed out.

"Huh, good point. How about Rapier? That's kinda cool," Bobby said. Richie chuckled. "What?"

"My first sword was a rapier."

"Oh, well what's this one called?"

"A Gothic Bastard," Richie replied. The others laughed.

"How about we leave the name choosing to the professor?" Logan said, suddenly serious as they neared the outskirts of the city. "We've got more important things to think about. Like finding the Samurai."

"So why can't you just find this Yakuza guy and challenge him? Why ask for the Silver Samurai's permission?" Bobby asked. "Aren't we doing him a favour?" Richie and Logan shook their heads.

"Bad idea. The Samurai considers it a matter of honour to kill this guy Yamamoto for himself," Logan explained.

"If I butt in, the Samurai will take it as a personal insult and come gunning for me and probably you too," Richie continued. Bobby and Rogue nodded in understanding.

As they entered the suburbs of Kyoto, the devastation wrought by the epic battle was clear. Buildings and gardens were just so much rubble and the streets were empty and silent.

"Looks like the civilians have been evacuated," Scott commented.

"It's creepy, like a ghost town," Rogue said with a shiver.

"Let's get this done," Richie said stoically. Gone was the gleeful boy from earlier; here was the battle hardened man.

Logan grunted in agreement. He sniffed the air, locating the familiar scent of the Samurai.

"This way."

-

They found the Samurai meditating in a nearby teahouse. Logan and Richie entered, leaving the others to check the area for any innocent bystanders that might need help. They removed their boots and walked into the room, cautious not to disturb the Samurai's meditation. Without looking up, the Samurai said in Japanese,

"_Logan-san. If you have business with me, I am afraid that now is not the right time."_

"_No, that's not why I'm here, Harada-san, this friend of mine has business with Yamamoto," _Logan replied in flawless Japanese. The Samurai looked up, first at him, then at Richie.

Richie stepped forward and bowed politely. The Samurai eyed him suspiciously. Slowly, Richie drew his sword, and, remembering the etiquette Duncan had taught him, he presented himself to the Samurai. He had taken a few classes in Japanese, and managed to dredge enough from the back of his brain to introduce himself.

"_Silver Samurai-san, my name is Richie Ryan, and with your permission, I wish to challenge the Yakuza Yamamoto,"_ he said before kneeling carefully on the mat and bowing low. The Samurai laughed.

"Another _gaijin _that speaks Japanese! Logan-san, are you teaching all our secrets to your friends?" he exclaimed in English.

"I'm as surprised as you Kenuichio-san," Logan replied, looking at Richie.

"I took some classes, and Duncan taught me a little," Richie replied. "My sensei, Duncan MacLeod, he lived in Japan for…a long time," he explained to the Samurai.

"MacLeod? I know a Connor MacLeod," the Samurai mused.

"That's his cousin," Richie replied. "He was Duncan's teacher."

"Then you are his friend?" the Samurai asked. Richie nodded. "Any friend of MacLeod is a friend of mine! Welcome, Richie Ryan."

Still kneeling, the Samurai gave a short bow, which Richie echoed, making sure he bowed lower than the Samurai. Harada might be friendly, but Richie didn't want to blow things by not showing proper respect.

"How much do you know about Connor?" Richie asked cautiously. Unsure of what to say, the Samurai looked at Logan. "You can speak freely in front of Logan, he knows everything."

"I know that he has a hard time dying," the Samurai replied with a wry smile. "Legend in my family tells of the undying _gaijin _who watches over my family and has done for over four centuries."

"That sounds about right," Richie confirmed. "I'm the same as he is."

"Ah, and so is Yamamoto. I should have realised. You have come for his Quickening then," Harada said. Richie nodded. "Then will you do me the honour of sparring with me? To see if you are a match for Yamamoto. Please do not misunderstand me, I mean no disrespect, but you seem young to my eyes. I should hate for MacLeod to be angry with me for causing the death of one of his friends."

Richie nodded his assent and both men rose and picked up their swords. They bowed and took up ready positions. Having sparred with Duncan so many times over the years, Richie was well used to facing a katana and he was able to hold his own, although the Samurai was an incredibly skilled swordsman for a mortal. After ten minutes, the Samurai put up his sword and ended the duel.

"You are well trained Richie-chan, you do your sensei great honour. I have one more test for you, if you will accept."

"Of course Harada-san," Richie replied, and he followed Harada outside. More than a little confused, he looked to Logan, who simply shrugged. The Samurai led them to where a little patch of wildflowers was growing and stopped.

"A truly skilled swordsman has grace and a deft hand, far more important than brute strength," he said. To demonstrate his point, he swung his blade, neatly cutting the head from one single flower, leaving all the others untouched. "If you can do the same, I will know you can take on Yamamoto."

Daunted, but determined, Richie stepped forward. He focussed his attention, his entire being, on the flower he intended to behead. He shook loose his shoulders, like a golfer preparing to tee-off. He inhaled, slowly and deeply, pulled his sword back and swung.

There was a pause, when Richie thought he had missed entirely, but then the intended flower head toppled and floated gently to the ground. Richie let out the breath he'd been holding and looked at Harada, who bowed deep and low.

"Richie-san, you are indeed a skilled warrior and more than a match for Yamamoto."

"_Aragato_, Harada-san," Richie replied and returned the Samurai's bow.

-

The Samurai led the X-men to the building where he suspected Yamamoto was being hidden to heal. It was an impressive tower block, made all the more imposing because it towered above the more traditional buildings that surrounded it. As they got close, Richie felt the all too familiar Buzz of another Immortal.

"He's here. And now he knows we're here," he said grimly.

"Fan out," Scott instructed. The X-men and Silver Samurai moved to take up positions nearby. Before Logan moved, Richie caught his attention,

"Don't forget, no matter what happens, you mustn't interfere. Just make sure Yamamoto's goons don't either," Richie said. Logan nodded.

"We got your back, bub," he replied, before moving to take up position with the others.

Alone, Richie walked towards the entrance. A young man in a well-tailored suit came out of the front entrance, the katana by his side incongruous with his business suit. He stopped in the plaza in front of the building and gave a curt bow before addressing Richie,

"What do you want, _gaijin_?" he demanded.

"I'm calling Yamamoto out. Challenging him," Richie replied. The man laughed with no humour.

"Then you have found him," he replied, raising his hand to the hilt of his sword. Richie examined him for a moment, and then shook his head.

"No, you're not him. Bring him out."

The Yakuza whipped out a pistol from a shoulder holster under his jacket.

"How about I shoot you and take your head?" he snarled.

A beam of energy suddenly hit the lackey's hand, making him drop the gun. Howling and clutching his hand in pain, the goon turned to find the source. Cyclops walked up behind Richie, his hand still poised on his visor.

"I don't think so. Fetch your boss," Scott commanded.

The Yakuza glared at Scott, and his hand moved toward his sword.

"Don't even think about it, bub," Logan said, low in the henchman's ear. He had dropped down behind the Yakuza while he was distracted by Scott and Richie and now one of Logan's claws was pressed against the man's throat. "You so much as look at that sword, you'll be wearing your own blood," Logan snarled. "Now, fetch your boss like a good little messenger boy."

"There's no need," Richie said, drawing his sword and looking behind Logan. As Logan was talking, Richie had again felt the Buzz and knew Yamamoto was coming out. All eyes were on the door as a muscular, tall Japanese man in his late sixties walked out, katana in his hand.

"You're Yamamoto?" Richie asked; his surprise showing in his voice and face.

"Surprised at my age? Shame on you Mr. Ryan, you of all people should know we have no control over the age of first death," Yamamoto replied. His voice was warm and amused, but it did not reach his eyes.

"How did you know…?" Richie began, then realised the answer for himself. "You have a Watcher on your payroll."

"Very useful," Yamamoto confirmed. "One should always know everything about one's opponent."

"Me, I'm more the kill first, ask questions later kinda guy," Richie quipped, his bravado masking his fear. A Watcher on his staff might mean that Yamamoto knew all Richie's weaknesses, and all his moves. But, it might also mean that Yamamoto was not that great with a sword; that he had survived by cheating. "Let's get this done," Richie said.

Yamamoto gave a curt bow in response and stepped forward, drew his sword and spun it in one fluid motion. The move looked complicated and impressive, but Richie knew enough to see that it was just an easy but showy move designed to intimidate.

Richie took up an opening stance, defensive yet allowing him to be aggressive if Yamamoto didn't attack first. The two Immortals stood facing each other in the plaza, sizing each other up, waiting for the right moment. Richie could tell that Yamamoto wanted to force Richie to strike the first blow, and a few years ago it probably would have worked, but Richie was more experienced and patient now.

He waited until he could see that Yamamoto was growing impatient, and then feinted, causing Yamamoto to move to intercept a blow that wasn't coming. Richie then stepped forward, anticipating, and slashed where Yamamoto was going to be. Yamamoto was caught off guard, and Richie's blade connected low, drawing a long red gash across Yamamoto's stomach.

-

The X-men watched in fascination as the two Immortals duelled. They weren't watching for long however; once Richie took first blood, Yamamoto's Yakuza appeared from Yamamoto's building and took up positions in the street and nearby buildings from which to shoot Richie. Obviously they were under orders to attack if Yamamoto was losing, so Scott signalled to the other X-men and the Silver Samurai to stop the Yakuza interfering.

-

Clutching the gaping wound in his stomach, Yamamoto snarled and lunged at Richie. The wound was slowing the older Immortal, but not enough for Richie to get out of the way in time. Yamamoto's sword caught Richie's left shoulder, the adamantium blade slicing through leather, flesh and bone alike.

Richie gasped in pain, but had the presence of mind to bring his own sword down. Yamamoto's arm broke with a sickening crack as Richie's own adamantium pommel hit home.

Panting for breath, both Immortals stepped back, each warily watching their opponent. Richie's left arm hung limp by his side. Yamamoto switched his sword to his good arm, the injured one hanging useless, a mirror image of Richie.

"Not bad Ryan, MacLeod taught you well. Too bad it was for nothing," Yamamoto taunted. He was obviously stalling for time, but that suited Richie just fine.

Richie could see the wound in Yamamoto's stomach was healing beneath his shirt, so it all came down to whose arm healed first. Richie could feel the flesh and bone knitting together underneath his leather suit and fervently hoped it was fast enough.

-

Ten Yakuza were crouched in a nearby alley, watching the scene unfold, waiting for a signal from their boss. They were sent into confusion as a storm appeared from nowhere, and they were buffeted by wind, hail and lightning, but they were not cowards and stood their ground. Storm and Cyclops were able to use the disorder to pick off the henchmen without difficulty. Although the men were criminals, the X-men had no desire to kill these humans, and so Storm knocked them unconscious with lightning or froze them where they stood, and Cyclops incapacitated them with his least powerful concussive blast.

Across the street, Rogue and Iceman were also doing their best to uphold the values of the X-men and not harm any of the ten men they were fighting. Iceman had penned most of them inside the shop where they had been waiting by creating a wall of ice in front of the doors and windows, but a couple had escaped and the two youngest X-men were now defending themselves. Iceman was pinned down under an umbrella of ice as the Yakuza fired their semi-automatics at him. Unseen, Rogue slipped round behind the two men. Too late, they heard her approach and span round as Rogue reached out and touched them both for the briefest of moments. Rendered unconscious, the two Yakuza slumped to the pavement and Iceman bound them together with a thick rope of ice.

On the other side of the plaza where Richie and Yamamoto were fighting, Wolverine and the Silver Samurai were fighting blade to blade with the Yakuza. Unlike his team mates, Wolverine was unconcerned with who lived or died. He had not let the berserker rage in him take control, but he was letting it have free reign, laying into the nameless goons with the animal joy that he only got from fighting. The Samurai was being equally merciless, using his mutant ability to slice through the Yakuza's weapons as if they were made of cheese instead of Japanese steel.

-

Nobody knows for certain what it is that determines the speed with which an Immortal heals, what makes some heal quicker than others and some wounds to take longer. Whatever it was, Richie was relieved to discover that he healed faster than Yamamoto. His shoulder wound was nothing more than a gash now, one that he could feel closing already; the pain almost gone. Yamamoto, on the other hand, was clearly still in pain and not ready to restart the fight.

Richie took a moment to check the surroundings. He could see the X-men battling with Yamamoto's men and knew that he was safe from them. Now was the moment. Using his advantage, Richie ran forward, blade ready to take Yamamoto's head. Startled, Yamamoto raised his sword to block Richie's blow, but at the last second Richie dropped his sword, driving his blade into Yamamoto's chest up to the hilt. Gasping, Yamamoto dropped his sword with a clatter. He looked up at Richie, his mouth a perfect 'o' of surprise.

"No, this is wrong! You aren't this good!" he sputtered, blood spraying from his mouth. Richie looked down at him, cold and calm.

"Never judge an Immortal by his Chronicle," he said before pulling his sword from Yamamoto's chest. He raised his sword over his shoulder. "There can be only one," he said, then swung.

-

"Well, that seems to be the last of them," Logan said as he dropped the body of the man he had been fighting onto the street opposite the plaza. Nobody was paying attention to him though; the X-men were gathered around the plaza, and all eyes were fixed on Richie and the headless corpse of Yamamoto.

An eerie mist rolled across the floor, and sparks of electricity began to light up the area around the body.

"Storm?" Scott queried.

"It is not me, Scott," Storm replied, as puzzled as he was.

"That would be my fault. You should all get clear, this could get…" Richie began, but he was cut off as he was struck by a bolt of lightning. The X-men all took a step backward, and Rogue let out a little gasp as bolt after bolt of blue lightning struck Richie's body.

"Storm!" Scott yelled over the din. Storm reached out with her mind, then dropped her arms and shook her head.

"I can do nothing. This is no storm," she replied. "Look, it seems to be coming from Yamamoto!"

Suddenly, the windows in the surrounding buildings exploded, sending shards of glass down upon them. Bobby raised his arms, and created an ice umbrella above them. The others could only stand under it and watch in mute horror as Richie screamed, engulfed in the lightning, his sword raised above him like a lightning rod.

As the lightning subsided, Richie dropped to his knees, exhausted. Storm and Wolverine ran forward to help him to his feet.

"Richie, I thought I had seen every kind of storm, but truly I have never seen lightning such as that," Ororo exclaimed. Richie smiled at her weakly.

"Guess I've got some explaining to do," he said.

"Maybe, but it can wait. Let's go home," Logan said firmly. Richie nodded, relieved to delay any explanation until the exhaustion of the Quickening had passed, and allowed Logan to help him as the team walked back toward the X-jet.

Richie tried not to meet anyone's gaze as they walked, unsure of what they were thinking. He knew that mutants were more open-minded than most, but he wasn't a mutant. Just because the Professor and Logan had accepted his Immortality, didn't mean that the rest of the team would. And, sooner or later, they would realise that Paul was Immortal too, and then maybe treat him differently from the other students. Richie realised that the real battle might just be beginning.


	5. Home Truths

_Sorry, it's been a while folks, my muses weren't cooperating, but hopefully they're back and things will move a bit quicker from now on!_

The flight back to Westchester was taken in silence and, in Richie's opinion, seemed to take far longer than the flight out. Most of the others were asleep except for Storm, who was the designated pilot, and Richie, whose thoughts were too jumbled to let him rest. But Richie felt that Scott was awake; could feel his eyes staring accusingly behind his visor.

Richie wondered how he was going to explain everything to the others. Would they still accept him now they knew that Immortality had strings attached? Would they be able to accept a killer in their midst? More importantly, he had lied to them all, and he didn't see how they could ever trust him now. As soon as the X-jet touched down, Richie slipped away.

Logan found Richie in the garage, sitting on his motorbike with one hand on the handlebar and the other rubbing the back of his neck. He looked up as Logan approached and smiled weakly.

"Going somewhere?" Logan asked. Richie shook his head.

"Not really. Thought a ride might clear my head; help me figure out how to explain everything to the others."

"Why don't you start by explaining it to me?"

Richie sighed and looked at Logan, who seated himself on the hood of a nearby car, causing it to bend.

"You have to understand, I never meant to lie to any of you. At first I didn't know how much I could trust everyone, and now I know how much the Professor hates killing…I've done some things I'm not proud of, things I'd rather forget," Richie said. Logan laughed at that.

"Ain't we all, bub? I know I don't remember much, but what I do ain't pretty. And the Professor, he's pretty good at forgiveness."

"But what about the others? Scott seems to hate me already…"

"Scott's grieving. We all are I guess, but Scott and Jean were… He's just trying to deal with it in his own way. And failing," Logan explained, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. "Don't take Scott's coldness personal. He takes a while to warm to people in general."

Richie could understand that, but it didn't make Scott's apparent disapproval any easier to handle.

"I know I told you and the Professor that I never had a choice when I took a head, but that wasn't exactly true. When I was younger, angrier, I went after people who pissed me off, people who deserved better."

Logan nodded and looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking.

"You say that's in the past? Then let it stay there. Chuck's explained the Game to the others, now you just have to explain the light show. It'll take some getting used to, but they'll come around, eventually."

"You mean like Paul has?" Richie laughed humourlessly. "I've done a great job there, haven't I? Maybe it would be best if I just left."

"Don't you dare!" Rogue said, making Richie jump. She stepped from the doorway where she must have been listening. "You're a part of this team now, Richie; you can't abandon your responsibilities."

"Besides, what about Paul? Can you abandon him? You can't expect him to leave everything he knows," Logan reminded him.

"I think he'd be better off without me. He hates me," Richie replied with a shake of his head.

"MacLeod must have been wrong then, to put such faith in you," Logan replied and stood up to leave. "And so was the Professor. Odd; Chuck ain't wrong often."

Logan walked over to Rogue and gently nudged her toward the door. They were a few paces away from it when Richie caught up to them.

"That was a low blow you know," he said. Logan shrugged.

"What you gonna do about it, kid?" he asked with a grin. Richie grinned back.

"Wait 'til we're in the Danger Room again."

It was several hours later that Richie left the other X-Men to find Paul. He found his student outside, enjoying the last of the evening's sunshine with some of his friends. He was smiling and laughing, but that soon stopped when he felt Richie's approach, which hurt Richie. He had hoped the two of them might become friends, as he and Duncan had, but Paul seemed to still resent Richie, perhaps even blame him a little for the way his life was going.

Richie stopped ten feet away from the group, not wishing to intrude on them. Paul muttered something to his friends and then walked over to Richie. Without a word, Richie led Paul inside to an empty classroom.

Richie grabbed a couple of chairs and motioned for Paul to sit as he did the same. He didn't speak for a second, still trying to gather his thoughts.

"Is this going to take long?" Paul demanded.

"I just thought I should let you know that I had to reveal my Immortality and the Game to the X-Men. I didn't tell them about you, that's your decision to make, but they know I give you one on one lessons. Eventually they'll probably figure it out for themselves. I just thought you should know," Richie trailed off lamely. He waited for any kind of response from Paul, but none was forthcoming. "Look, Paul, I know we haven't gotten off to a great start, but I was kinda hoping we might be friends."

"Seriously?" Paul said, a look of distaste on his face.

"There's more to both of us than Immortality, and I thought we could, you know, hang out maybe," Richie said. "Go see a movie, maybe? I hear the new Tarantino's pretty good."

"You like Tarantino?"

"Course! Who doesn't? Man, I remember going to see Reservoir Dogs when it came out, it completely blew my mind. I've seen every one of his films, even Four Rooms."

"Dude, that one blows. Hard," Paul said. "I mean, Tarantino's the man, but that film bites ass."

Richie chuckled and nodded, feeling like maybe he had finally found some common ground.

"So, have you seen the new one yet?"

"No, course not. I'm under age, remember? Sixteen forever," Paul replied and Richie realised he'd said something supremely stupid so he quickly tried to repair the mistake.

"That's okay, I can get you a really good ID. It's actually an important lesson for every Immortal to learn, no matter how old you look. Every so often you have to change identity so you need to know how to build a new one. It used to be easy, you could find infant deaths from about the right time and just assume their identity, but with the internet and everything life has got a lot harder for us," Richie explained.

Paul actually looked genuinely interested in what Richie was saying, instead of the sullen respect that he usually demonstrated in training and Richie realised that he'd been too focussed on sword training. Paul was relatively safe from the Game while he was at the school, so it was time to maybe relax that a little and start to teach him the other aspects of being an Immortal.

"So, being a good hacker is an essential skill?" Paul asked. Richie nodded.

"Mortal law is more like a guideline for Immortals. It's best just to follow your own moral code, do what you believe is right. If you think stealing is wrong, then don't steal. But, if you think it doesn't hurt anybody and you need the cash…"

"Have you stolen?" Paul asked and leaned forward. Richie was pleased that Paul was finally interested in what he was saying to him and grinned.

"Occasionally. Nothing huge, just a little to see me through a tough patch. Not long after my first death I had a pretty public accident in France. It meant I had to stop being Richie Ryan for a while. Meant I couldn't get a job until I had a new identity and left France, but I had to eat," Richie answered. Paul looked thoughtful for a moment or two, and then stood up.

"So what you're telling me is that becoming Immortal makes it okay to lie, steal and kill people?" he demanded, suddenly furious. Richie was dumbstruck. Paul shook his head and marched out of the room.

"Paul!" Richie called after him, but he let him go. He banged his head against a nearby desk a couple of times and then just sat there, head on the table, and sighed. He'd really thought he was getting through to Paul this time. He looked up to see Scott standing in the doorway.

"Come to mock my teaching skills?" Richie asked as he stood up. "Because, frankly, I can't find a reason to argue right now."

"Actually, I came to apologise," Scott answered, amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I should have given you a chance, but Logan and I…well we aren't best buds, and you came here on his say so, and you aren't even a mutant…I should have trusted the Professor," Scott finished weakly.

"Is it really such an issue? That I'm not a mutant?"

Scott thought for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck absent-mindedly.

"No, no, I just… outsiders can't understand what we go through."

Richie bit back the cruel laugh forming in his throat, but he couldn't withhold the heavy sarcasm as he spoke to Scott.

"You mean having an ability that you could use to do great good, but that you have to keep secret because most people would hate and fear you if they knew? No, I've no idea what that feels like."

Scott stared at him, as if seeing him for the first time, and then shook his head and broke into an embarrassed grin.

"I'm sorry. Can we start over?"

"Sure. Hi, I'm Richie Ryan, good to meet you," Richie said with a smile and held out his hand. Scott chuckled good-naturedly and took the proffered hand.

"Scott Summers, and it's good to meet you, too."


End file.
